J.C.Q.

When I was eight, my mom said we couldn't get a fish because I wouldn't take care of it. She eventually caved in and she was right. I didn't take care of it.

When I was twenty-one, my mom wouldn't let me get a fish for the same reason. I said: "Mom, I'm an adult! Don't you consider me to be responsible enough to own a betafish?!" The answer was no.

So I deviously bought one that I could keep at work. Well, Sammy had to go home to Brett's because I was *apparently* not taking care of him properly.

Now I want a bunny (at Brett's house -- mom won't let me keep one at ours) but Brett says I have to prove to him that I can take care of an animal before I can get one.

Pfft. I put a note on Sammy's tank that said "Sammy, start cleaning up after yourself or else you'll have to start paying rent to mommy and daddy." Sammy is really ticked off, not only because now he has to clean, but because the sign is blocking the light.

Posted by Fishsticks at 20:12 | Permalink | Comments

Brett's set of two phones allows me to give a "name" to each phone that shows up on the LCD display. One would presumably put something sensible like "Bedroom" and "Family Room." However, if you are so stupid that you need to name your phones, I don't know what the world is coming too.

I amused myself by using less practical but much more hilarious titles. The bedroom phone is called "COACH Z GR8 JORB," while the living room one is charmingly titled "THE SNEAK."

Posted by Fishsticks at 20:06 | Permalink | Comments

Bum rubs are where it's at. At first, you may squeal and giggle when getting a bum rub. But after a while, you get used to it, and they feel better than backrubs and shoulder massages. You really should go to a massage therapist and get one.

I think the reason it's so relieving is because the bum works so hard all day. It sits there and takes all the shit.

Brett says it doesn't take the shit; it gives it out. He claims the bum is a selfish piece of flesh and deserves to be smacked around once in a while.

What do YOU think: The buttocks: altruistic, or selfish hardass? And no sitting on the fence.

This is obviously a pressing issue. I need Tamara's physiological insight and Taylor's Chomskyian knowledge of the ins-and-outs of adverbs to get this all sorted out.

You know, this would be a great debate case to run. Definitely a canned case. Hahaha.

Posted by Fishsticks at 17:17 | Permalink | Comments

There are some smashing deals on after Easter. I bought a bunny at Shopper's Drug Mart. But it's not just an ordinary chocolate Mr. Munchy (not even a Mr. Crunchy) or a plush rabbit. It's a mechanical furry bunny that hops and that eats a carrot and wiggles its ears and makes a cute little sound! For $8 something, it was a steal of a deal! It likes to bring carrots to us to eat. (Yes Helen, it's another psychedelic rabbit!)

President's choice's Dr. Pepper is called Docta Smooth. Excellent!

Posted by Fishsticks at 19:33 | Permalink | Comments